Bubble Boy
by nico78
Summary: Peter Bishop was kidnapped and returned to the other side by Walter, just as planned.  Olivia crosses over after John Scott's death & meets a crippled boy-genius desperate to return to our side to be cured again by the man that kidnapped him long ago.
1. Chapter 1

So this story was sparked by something Joshua Jackson said in an interview, he said Peter might have been a bubble-boy genius if he hadn't been kidnapped and taken to Our side. And it seemed like an awesome Fringe story to tell and very well could have happened in some alternate parallel universe...

* * *

It starts out Over There.

The Olivia in this first chapter is Fauxlivia, in case you don't pick up on it.

* * *

On with the show!

* * *

xXx

* * *

Olivia shifted nervously outside the beautifully landscaped, and designed glass and concrete home of the Bishops. Home was an understatement, it was more like a mansion. Or a fortress.

The secretary of defense lived in a walled mansion of splendor in comparison to the rest of the city.

There was a plush garden from the green tendrils of vegetation she could see peeking out over the fortified walls.

She had called before coming over but she was unsure of what to expect when she arrived. She had a nice apartment by most peoples' standards. Putting your life in peril every day, came with a lot of perks, but this put her meager existence to shame. The Secretary was definitely leagues above her pay scale by the look of things.

She rang the buzzer and it was answered quickly.

"Agent Dunham?" a male voice echoed over the intercom.

"Yes. Olivia Dunham to see Peter Bishop. I called earlier."

"Oh, I know," the voice said as the gate buzzed open. "Just follow the path. My mother will meet you outside."

Olivia hesitated a fraction of a second before she pushed open the gate. Why was she so nervous? She never let her nerves get to her this badly. She took a few deep breaths of the sweet smelling air to calm herself down.

The front door opened and an impeccably dressed woman with long dark hair came out to greet her. The woman was regal and stretched out her hand and smiled warmly.

"I'm Elizabeth. Peter's been waiting for you all morning. He's very excited," she said sheepishly. Then realizing she might have said something embarrassing, quickly tried to backtrack. "I mean, he's very excited to hear about your investigation."

Olivia smiled back at her. Elizabeth seemed very protective of her son. Rightly so.

Speaking of her son, Peter Bishop appeared at the door. He was seated in a state-of-the art electric chair, a model she had never seen before. Only the best for the Secretary's son.

Did he know he lived a charmed life behind these walls? He had deserved it, though, being kidnapped and his face plastered all over the world's newspapers and TV screens.

"Forgive me if I don't shake your hand, sweetheart," he greeted her. He lifted his curled motionless hands and Olivia gave him a quick smile. He moved his eyes to the left and his chair did a 360 degree turn and she followed him as he zipped through the living room. She almost had to run to catch up to him. He sensed this and slowed down a touch. He wasn't used to female visitors, so he was nervous and forgot his manners. He stopped at the door to a patio long enough for it to slide open and they both slipped through, leaving Elizabeth to busy herself in the kitchen, but still able to watch them on the patio. Her son was thirty-two years old, but she still worried about him.

Olivia almost gasped at the colors that inhabited the small bit of natural space. She had only seen pictures of most of these flowers in textbooks and never encountered them in real life. The deep red flowers of a vine clinging to the wall and the small orange and yellow flowers lining a pathway around a deep emerald green lawn almost took her breath away. She had heard that expression before, but never felt it as she did here in this garden. Taking your breath away was always regarded as a bad thing so she always wondered where that expression came from. Now she knew.

She stood speechless for a moment.

"Beautiful isn't it?" He smiled up at her. "Sometimes I feel so lucky..." The way his voice died out at the end broke Olivia's heart. "What is it that you wanted to talk about?" He looked up at her with beautiful, deep, dark soulful eyes. His voice was strong as he said it, as if the previous sentence hadn't ever been uttered.

"There have been some... alarming events happening recently-"

"Yes, my father told me about some of them."

"-and I've been looking over the files on your kidnapping. I just had a few questions to ask you. You said that a man who looked exactly like your father came and took you?"

"Yes. But I've told this story to a hundred officers and a million reporters, you could have looked it up anywhere. Hell, The Weekly World News actually had a fairly accurate report of it and that's saying a lot." He snorted.

"I don't know how much your father has told you about recent events."

"He said a war might begin soon. But that's cryptic and vague and he's been saying that forever. So take it with a grain of salt."

"I'm starting to believe him," Olivia's voice drifted off and was carried away by a blue butterfly that had swooped in to check out the greenery. She watched it fly around for a moment before gathering her thoughts again. "We've received reports and seen surveillance footage of a woman who matches my description exactly. She could be my double." She looked down at Peter who was not looking at her but looking out at the yard and she tried to gauge the expression on his face. But he wasn't giving anything away.

Did he understand what she was trying to say? Who else _but_ Peter Bishop could or would understand what that meant?

She broke the contact and stared off into the landscape and let the silence sit between them. She felt an instant kinship with Peter Bishop and even though she only knew him through police reports and newspaper stories, she felt she _knew_ him. They were the same age and his story had been ever present in her life. They had grown up together, only worlds apart.

She dared say his story was one of the (many) reasons she had wanted to enter law enforcement.

"Do you have a theory as to why she might be here?" he asked finally.

"No, but I was hoping you might. The man who kidnapped you, cured you and brought you back...Why did he do that?"

"I don't know why. Yeah, he cured me, but it all came back eventually. But how could he have known that? He was trying to do something good, I always felt. I don't think your 'twin' is here to do you any harm, if that's what you're thinking." He looked at her. "I never told anyone this, but I also met a version of my mother over there. But I don't remember much else and then he brought me back and the whole media circus started.

"Sometimes I thought it was all a dream. My father was so loving. So caring. So unlike the father I knew. Sometimes I wished I could have stayed over there. I dreamt about it for years. I've spent many years trying to get back there..."

"How have you done that?" Olivia asked. Curious.

"I've studied electronics and physics. It's just... I have some limitations, ya know." He smiled shyly. Peter was never one to be this open or honest about himself (especially with a real woman and not some cyber chick he met online), but he felt like he could be open with her. He felt happy around her. At peace.

"It seemed so surreal. But I was better for a long time after that. I could play soccer, I rode my bicycle, I could just be a normal kid. But then it all went downhill after that."

Olivia nodded. And they both enjoyed the silence for a moment.

"I guess maybe I hoped if I was ever to go back, they could cure me again. It seemed maybe they were a little ahead of us, technologically speaking. Who would have thought an alternate universe even existed and was as accessible as going through a door? I have trouble believing it and I did it."

"But what if you went back and got worse?"

"Touche. But what if they _could_ cure me? It doesn't hurt to try, does it? There's so many _what ifs_... so many possibilities."

"Yes, so many possibilities... This woman who looked like me was seen outside my apartment a few nights ago," she gently steered the conversation back on track.

"Do you think she might hurt you?" Peter felt that Olivia could take care of herself if she needed to. Even her casual stance beside him screamed "military". And the gun at her hip probably deterred most people from even trying. But for some reason, he felt very protective of her despite that. Even though he knew he was useless in a fight. But he'd never felt so alive in his uselessness. From the moment he'd laid eyes on her he had developed a slight crush. Her long reddish brown hair... Or it could be the simple fact that a woman had called him and wanted to meet him in person.

That NEVER happened.

"No. But... you never know," Olivia answered and she looked down at him and Peter seemed far away, lost in his thoughts.

"I've been told my entire life by my father that they're monsters for taking me, but I've never believed that stuff. They were kind to me. They cured me. They fed me. They hugged me. They sent me back home. Those are not the actions of people who are at war with us."

"But what if they've changed, Peter? What if things over there are as bad or worse than they are here? Who knows to what lengths they would go to to survive?"

He was silent.

"I know exactly to what lengths WE would go to survive." he said cryptically.

* * *

xXx


	2. Chapter 2

Olivia Dunham had been shadowing Olivia Dunham for a few days now.

_What a weird concept,_ Olivia thought, _I am_ _stalking myself_. But lately she had been knee-deep in weird.

She was dealing with John's recent death and a certifiably mad scientist named Walter Bishop-who turned out to be the axis that her crazy little world was turning on right now. The cause of it all.

She had jumped into a sensory deprivation tank to hopefully access John's memories and here she was, living in an LSD-induced dream. Or an LSD-induced reality. Take your pick, either way it was hell.

She wished that she'd been a bit more careful with what she had wished for. But how was she to know that this was Pandora's box and that she should never have opened it? Where was the voice of reason?

Stalking herself had not been easy. She had finally procured a fake show-me ID card and was now able to use public transit. She had wasted too much time trying to walk everywhere and then she'd spied the cameras following her every move and knew she couldn't continue on like this. She might be caught soon and rotting in a jail cell or worse... This was a very authoritarian culture and from the headlines she was able to read splashed about on screens and data pads everywhere (she was guessing newspapers had died years ago), it seemed very likely for a person to be caught and jailed for the smallest of things or trapped in some amber substance that seemed to be a very divisive topic.

She remembered the horror and panic on the faces of the people trapped in the huge block of amber outside of Harvard shortly after she arrived here and it sent a cold shiver up her spine.

Once she had gotten to an inhabited city, she had rounded a corner one day in her wanderings and been swept up in an anti-amber protest. She wanted so desperately to ask what it was all about, but she didn't want to appear naïve or raise suspicions. It seemed like everything raised peoples' suspicions over here. And the authorities came only a few minutes later to arrest people and blast them with what looked like an electric crowd disperser, so she got away from the melee as fast as she could.

If she was stuck in a jail cell Walter would probably have an even harder time trying to get her out of here. Wherever here was. Was this some dystopian fantasy in her head, made real? Was she channeling George Orwell and all she had to do was pinch herself and wake up?

She pinched herself, but nothing happened. She was still "here". And she was sure she would have a bruise on her arm now.

She hoped Walter or the assistant that had been assigned to her or Broyles or _somebody_ was working on a way to get her home. She didn't know how much longer she could stay here. But she could still smell the burning tire smell in her clothes from the two days she spent trying to flee Boston, so 'here' had to exist, right? She was not sure about anything any more. All she knew was that she really needed some new clothes.

And a cup of coffee.

There were no Starbucks, no small coffee shops, nothing.

She had spotted a 7-11 a few days ago (an oasis in the desert) and wandered through it looking for a coffee machine. _Praying_ for a coffee machine. Even one of those prepackaged coffee drinks or something from a machine. SOMETHING. ANYTHING.

But there was nothing.

The clerk had laughed at her and tried to sell her some "coffee substitute" they had in the cooler. But she wanted no part of it.

Olivia had been forced to beg for money and forced to learn the rules of this world quickly. It was essentially the same, but ever so slightly different. Dangerously different. This amber substance, the quarantine zones and big bugs. Big bugs! And no coffee.

This was the mother of all bad trips.

And if she _actually_ saw a giant sized bug buzzing around her head _(or anywhere)_, she swore it was the last straw for her sanity.

She wondered if she was still under the influence of the hallucinogens Walter had given her. It had been days, maybe even weeks since she got here. Time had blurred into fleeing from one nightmare after another.

And Boston was a hellish nightmare she was glad to have gotten as far away from as possible.

She had allowed Dr. Bishop to inject her with all sorts of homemade mind-altering hallucinogens and here she was. Was she stuck? Would she ever see her world again? Was this all in her mind? Would she emerge from the back of the wardrobe as if no time had never passed? Was John Scott worth all of this?

Yes.

He was.

To her he was worth literally going to hell and back. But she'd better have some answers soon or..

_'Or what?' _She asked herself.

But she hadn't seen hide nor hair of him over here. She had looked, too. She had found herself. And she had found Walter Bishop and he was not crazy here (at least not as apparent as he was on her side with his scraggly beard, cracked face and demands for strange drinks and food) and he was a high ranking government official, too.

She had followed herself, her double, to a beautiful estate on the outskirts of New York and watched as she disappeared behind 10 foot walls. Cameras were perched like sentries at every corner so Olivia stayed crouched behind a car (a car she had stolen to get out here...desperate times called for desperate measures) that shielded her from their view.

She slowly inhaled the first breath of real fresh air she had found since she got here.

Whoever it was behind those walls, they valued their security.

* * *

XxX

* * *

"I have something I'd like to show you Olivia." Peter liked the way her named rolled off his tongue. He had to keep his thoughts from heading to other parts of her body, too.

Olivia glanced at her watch. She was running late for a meeting at headquarters.

"Maybe next time? I have a meeting." She was surprised that she didn't want to go.

"Yeah maybe next time." He was sad to see her go but oh so very happy there was the promise of a next time... He stole a glance at her hand, there was no wedding ring on her finger. Maybe he would put the moves on her next time... Maybe he would do a wheelie and she would fall into his arms and...

"I'll send you the footage we have of... _her_. And some other evidence I'd like you to take a look at."

"Thanks. I wish I could have been more help." He led her back into the house. "But I think it might be wise to sit back and wait and see what their first move will be."

"Good night Mrs. Bishop," Olivia said as she followed Peter into the front room. "Agreed. I think I need to alert your father about this too-"

"No!" Peter said a little too quickly. His mother was still in ear shot and he led Olivia out the front door and used his eye to give the command to the computer interface to open the front gate. It swung open and she turned back to Peter with a questioning look on her face.

"Agent Dunham, please don't talk to my father about this, he'll probably want to initiate some protocol to... capture her. It's best to see how this develops and go from there." He didn't want to tell her that he didn't trust his father much any more. That power had corrupted him and he was tilting at windmills and privately he thought the man was teetering on the edge of insanity.

"I won't. But if anything new develops, I'll have to brief him." She turned and exited the walls of the Bishop fortress.

"Please keep me in the loop," he answered as she got into her car and drove away.

He stared after her car for a moment or two until she turned off the street.

* * *

xXx

* * *

Olivia watched the two figures from her vantage point. She felt dizzy and off-balance, attributing the vertigo to watching herself have a conversation with the young man in the electric chair. Maybe she was having an out of body experience?

She saw herself drive away in a strange looking red car.

Red! She would _never_ pick that color!

And who was the man who sat looking after her double with longing in his eyes. Was that regret maybe or some sadness? He whirled around practically on two wheels and the gate closed behind him.

Olivia walked along the sidewalk in front and glanced casually at the intercom. 'Bishop' a small tag on it read. She continued casually walking as if she lived there in that neighborhood. But she was screaming inside.

_The plot thickens,_ she told herself as the vertigo and spinning sensation came back with a vengeance. She tried the handle of a car and it opened freely.

For such an authoritarian society, she marveled that nobody ever locked their doors in this world...

* * *

XxX

* * *

"We have a trace on her. A car parked outside the Secretary's residence," Astrid Farnsworth reported to Colonel Broyles.

"Walter Bishop?" Broyles asked incredulously.

"Yes sir."

He thanked her and then he called Olivia.

"She was outside the Bishop's house... Yes, it seems she followed you. We're tracking her right now."

* * *

XxX

* * *

The vertigo was not going away and now it was interfering with her vision and she couldn't keep up with the red car in front of her, could barely see it even.

And then things started to shimmer and her stomach heaved.

And she felt wet.

And cold.

And she opened her eyes and it was dark and silent.

No! She hoped she wasn't back in Boston with the tire fires and the huge mountain of amber with people stuck inside like ants and the roving gangs of desperate homeless people. She had tried so hard to escape from there and if she was back there she didn't know what she would be forced to do again.

She moved her fingers in the tank and heard little droplets of water splashing around as she reached up to push on the door.

The heavy metal doors swung open themselves with a creak and the cracked and worried face of Dr. Bishop hovered above her ready to pull her out.

She never felt so relieved. Or confused.

"Are you alright, Agent Dunham?" he asked her jovially, but with a worried tone as he gave her a hand out of the tank. "Your heart rate started to spike."

"Yes, I'm alright, but I have to go back!" she grabbed his arms desperately and Agent Farnsworth appeared at her side to steady her.

"Go back where?" Astrid and Walter said at the same time.

"Get me that syringe of Valium, Iceberg," Walter told Astrid Farnsworth who scurried away. She was getting used to the weird names this crazy man called her.

"I was somewhere... else! Another world! I saw your house, Walter. You were the Secretary of Defense! Boston was a wasteland! There was this huge mountain of an amber colored substance with people trapped in it. And I found your house in New York, there was a young man there in a wheelchair..." Olivia was starting to feel panicky and her heart was beating way too fast. Valium started to sound lovely.

"My son..." Walter whispered. "My son?" He staggered backwards a bit and Olivia feared she might have to pick him up off the floor and inject him with the Valium that had been meant for her.

Olivia stared into his eyes, gripping the sleeves of his white coat so he wouldn't fall. So they both wouldn't fall. Puddles of water dripped on the floor. She paid no attention to the towel Agent Farnsworth tried to wrap around her bare shoulders.

"I was gone for weeks!" she said through clenched teeth. "Weeks!"

"Nonsense, you were only in the tank for an hour Olivia!" Walter found his voice. "And we monitored you the whole time!"

"I knew this was a bad idea. I knew it! Agent Dunham, you can't take homemade pharmaceuticals from a man who just got out of an insane asylum!" Agent Farnsworth scolded her and stood ready to jab her with the syringe if and when Walter gave the word.

But Olivia did not hear her, she only noticed that Walter had gone pale.

"What is it you're not telling me, Doctor Bishop?" she directed the question at the scientist. _The mad scientist _her brain informed her.

"You were in the alternate universe," he whispered.

"What was that?" It came out angry and she did not mean to sound angry, but couldn't help it. She felt wild. Feral. Like she would scratch his eyes out if he didn't explain. Immediately. She had almost zero patience at this moment.

"You were in the alternate universe!" Walter Bishop said with more confidence, more gusto. He did a quick jig in her arms and smiled broadly at her. He looked like a white-coated leprechaun who had just found his pot of gold.

"_What_ alternate universe?" she gripped his sleeves harder and pulled him closer towards her until they were face-to-face and she smelled the root beer on his breath.

"Tell me." It was almost a growl.


	3. Chapter 3

Olivia was seated in a chair back in the Harvard lab, rubbing her wet hair with a towel and listening to the story Walter was weaving.

His son Peter had died when he was seven years old from a muscle wasting disease and he had crossed over to this 'other' universe to cure the boy who had his same name and lived almost the same life and had the same parents. Things went a 'little sour' and he had to bring the boy back with him. It had been easy to fool his 'wife' over there. He knew what words to say that would keep her from asking too many questions, would keep her from uncovering his deception.

It had not been so easy to fool the boy. He was smart and not easily fooled and it brought tears to Walter's eyes to remember his little voice on the ice, "You're not my father." His son would have been smart too had he lived, he was sure of it. If Walter had found the cure faster.

If Walternate had only found the cure faster.

_Damn that man for taking so long!_ Walter cursed his other self under his breath and the anger was so strong that he wanted to curl his fist up and hit a wall! But neither Agent Dunham nor Agent Farnsworth had seemed to hear it or sense his anger.

And then he had brought the little boy over, cured him and had him back a week later, just as he had promised Elizabeth over there. The guilt of what he had done wrecked him that week. Wrecked them both for years later, Elizabeth an unwitting accomplice and it (among other things like a divorce and a car wreck) had sent him to a padded room at St Clair's.

And to sit and talk with this little boy, coincidentally named Peter, as he and Elizabeth nursed him back to health was too much for him. Too much for them both to handle.

And so Walter had destroyed all of the equipment and gave up the dangerous project as he had promised his lab assistant Dr. Warren. Walter kept his promises.

After Walter was done with the telling of his tale, Olivia told him of her struggle to get out of Boston, of giant bugs and the amber and the blimps flying around. And then she described the young man _her double _was talking to at the Bishop residence...

Walter tried to keep his hands still, but they shook even more when she mentioned the high-tech wheelchair the young man had used. The last he knew, Peter was cured. Something must have happened. Something gone wrong... Oh God...

"I need to go back, Walter," Olivia interrupted his thoughts.

Walter could barely hide his happiness that this woman was so foolhardy to actually _want_ to go back to that desolate place! He wouldn't have to coax her or trick her or... _no no no_ tricking her was out of the question, she and the government man would send him back to St Clair's promptly and he would never be able to help his son—the _other_ Peter- again. Here was his chance to redeem himself.

But despite his inner happiness, he still felt he had to warn her against this "foolishness".

He leaned in close to her. "You have a unique ability, Agent Dunham. You can travel back and forth between universes naturally. Well, _almost_ naturally- " A slip of the tongue and he looked at her with a stab of guilt and tried to continue his speech, the voice of reason that always sounded like Carla Warren echoing about his brain... "-but you can quickly become addicted to it. It's exhilarating to see what might have been. And what could be. And what is. And what isn't. But you need to rest. Your body has taken quite a beating. And so has your mind..."

"Tomorrow, then. It's a Saturday and I can use Sunday to rest," Olivia said quickly. When she was all in for something, she was all in, Walter found out quickly.

That sounded reasonable to him. "Very well then. Would you say hello to my son for me? Please tell him I think of him often." There was so much more he wanted to say, but he didn't want to overwhelm Ms. Dunham or the boy. But he wasn't a boy any more...

Olivia smiled and grasped Walter's hand. The love this man had for his son. She wished her own father had had that capacity.

"I will Walter."

Astrid shook her head, but kept her mouth shut. This was dangerous water they were treading.

Very dangerous.

* * *

xxx

* * *

When Olivia "returned" the next day, she again woke up in a dry tank (she forgot about that) her breathing echoed in the small claustrophobic space. She pushed open the heavy doors and there was no help from the other side to make them lighter. She was on her own again. The smell of dust and old things hit her nose and made her cough.

Her clothes were wet, but at least she had clothes. And shoes. Before she went in the tank, she decided and Walter agreed that she wasn't going to be sent over again to walk around in her bra and panties being eyed by the crazed lunatics living in the burnt out wreckage of Boston.

The dim, gray light coming through the windows let her know she was back in the 'alternate universe' as Walter called it. She supposed that was a better term than 'hell'.

Olivia found the quickest way out of the basement lab at Harvard, her earlier footprints the only ones to disturb the dust on the stairwell in years. She passed no roving bands of Mad Max-like marauders this time. No apparent need to hide from them but she still did. The streets were empty and eerily quiet.

Too quiet.

She found the highway and hitched a ride on a passing semi truck and found herself back in New York within hours. She realized in her absence from this place that a week had elapsed.

Within hours, she found herself in front of the Bishop's gate, pressing the intercom button.

"It's Olivia Dunham to see Peter Bishop." She hoped she didn't appear too disheveled.

There was a pause and a woman's warm voice came through the speaker, "We weren't expecting you Agent Dunham but Peter will be thrilled."

The gate buzzed open and Olivia entered. Peter Bishop wheeled down the path towards her and she got her first good look at him. He was handsome but thin in a sickly sort of way. He had a bulky NYU sweatshirt on, but she could still tell he was as thin as a twig underneath.

"It's nice of you to stop by again," he smiled warily at her. And stopped dead in his tracks. He noticed something in her eyes. And the most glaring difference was her hair. She wore it in a quick messy pony tail, swept back off her face. And it was blonde just like the girl in the surveillance footage.

Peter was no dummy. He didn't need the blonde hair to tell him something was _off_ about this person, but it was like a blaring alarm. He held his breath.

"I came to tell you something," she said to him.

They were still in the courtyard outside the house. His mother was inside. Peter was the only thing between her and this enemy. And he was not about to let the enemy walk freely into his home. So maybe he didn't trust them as much as he thought he did.

"Go ahead," he said back to her. He kept his distance from her and she kept hers.

"I have a message from the man who took you all those years ago. He wants to say hello and he thinks of you often. And he hopes you're doing okay. When I told him you were in a wheelchair, he became very worried that you've become sick again."

"Wait... what?" This wasn't what Peter thought she would say.

"It's a very long story." she told him. There was a hint of exhaustion in the way she said it, Peter noted.

"I can clear my schedule," he said sarcastically. "Why did he take me?" Peter asked her bluntly.

"His son was also named Peter and he died from the same illness you had. He was unable to help him in time, but he didn't want the same fate for you and he had the ability to help you."

Peter digested that for a moment. It made sense. It was so simple, yet made so much sense. "So why did he send me back?"

"He made a promise." Olivia did not expect this question. "And Walter said he keeps his promises. He's been in a mental institution for the last 20 years."

"That's not surprising," Peter snorted and he seemed to relax a little more. "Can you take me back with you? Can he cure me again? Did you come through the doorway on the lake?"

"I don't know. I don't know what you're talking about. I don't even know how I'm able to come here. He has to pump me full of psychotropic drugs and stick me in a sensory deprivation chamber and-"

"And you let him do that to you?" Peter snorted at her stupidity. But he marveled at her bravery. "What was in it for you?"

"I was trying to access someone's memories... someone I loved... someone who died. But I ended up here. And I have to wait for them to pull me out or for the drugs to wear off."

Peter narrowed his eyes. He wanted to trust this woman, after all her counterpart was an agent in Fringe Division and his father only hired the best of the best. He knew he was going to trust her. His father would be angry and he heard Walter's voice in his head that had said a million times over 'They cannot be trusted'. But the old man hadn't been over there himself and was blinded by rage.

And Peter thought it wasn't so much about his only son being kidnapped but that Walter Bishop hadn't found the door to this other universe himself.

"I have something to show you. Follow me," Peter whirled around in his chair and Olivia followed him into the house. "You look like you're hungry, do you want something to eat?" he asked Olivia. "My mother can fix you something, if you are."

Olivia settled down in a chair with a sandwich made by Mrs. Bishop balanced on her knees. Her and Peter were in a small workshop behind his house with various electronic components scattered across the desktop and in boxes on shelves and all within easy reach and all carefully labeled: transistors, resistors, diodes, triodes, switches...

"I've studied electrical engineering and I've been working on something to try and get back," he struggled with his curled up hands to maneuver a heavy box to the edge of the desk. "I'm hoping he can cure me again if I get back there. But no matter what I do, I can't get it to work properly."

He looked over at her with a twinkle in his eye. "I never considered hallucinogenic drugs though."

"I'm sure Walter didn't need them when he first came over to get you."

"Probably not, but you never know with that man." Peter joked and waved a screwdriver around. "I remember he had a gateway of some sort and several computers and loud engines. But I don't recall much else-"

"Maybe that's because of the LSD," she smirked.

"Maybe, " he sat back and laughed. He hadn't laughed in quite awhile. He was starting to like this version of Olivia Dunham. She had a wry sense of humor that matched his own. She did not feel like 'the enemy'. His father would say that was dangerous thinking... His father... "I wouldn't put it past my old man to give dangerous drugs to children though...

"I've been working on this for a few years, but I feel I'm at a disadvantage. Like there's a piece missing. Maybe a piece we don't even have over here yet. I'm inclined to believe your side is more advanced in this line of science than we are."

"That seems shocking because in the small amount of time I've been here, your side seems the far more advanced side."

"Really?" He looked her over and she appeared to be telling the truth. This was very disappointing to Peter, but he tried not to show it and he looked away. He had lived his whole life believing that They on the other side were superior in all ways. After all, his father on the other side had cured him and the doctors here and his own father, a brilliant man in his own right, were still baffled and continued to be baffled by his illness. "Maybe when you go back you can ask Walter to draw you a schematic of the doorway?" He asked hopefully.

"He told me that he destroyed all the equipment and he doesn't remember how he built it."

"But...! Why would he do that?" his voice was as thin as his body. "Why would he do such a thing! Such a marvelous invention and he _destroyed_ it?"

"He's been in a mental institution for 20 years, Peter. And he said he made a promise never to cross into this world again." She touched his arm hoping to comfort him and he looked over at her again.

Yes, Peter definitely preferred this version of Agent Dunham over the one he had met days ago.

He looked into her eyes. "Please take me with you when you go back," he said with a grave seriousness. "You don't know what it's like..."

"I _do_ know what it's like over here," she finished. "But I don't even think that's possible. I enter this world in your father's old lab in the basement of a building at Harvard-"

"Boston? Boston is a shit hole." Peter turned away before he could get lost in "what ifs" and her beautiful eyes. And to hide his soul-crushing disappointment from her.

"Not where I'm from. It's still a thriving town and we don't have a huge block of amber with people trapped in it. What's up with that anyways?" Olivia asked.

"Rips in the fabric of the universe. I think it's from when I was taken over to your side. They started to appear after I was taken. My father invented the amber to seal them up. It was bad. Hundreds of people were swallowed up in a vortex and after that, it took up all of my father's time and energy. I've been trying to help him work on something not quite so... devastating. They're very unpopular. You sound like you don't have the amber on your side? Over here, you—your double- deals with the amber all the time. She puts her life on the line every day to seal up the holes..."

"Sounds heroic."

"It is," he said with admiration. "I wish I could be out there saving the world every day. Here, let me show you something." He left the room and came back with a flower plucked from the garden outside. He put it in a small chamber and flipped a switch. A gas enveloped the flower and quickly hardened. Peter reached in and grabbed the chunk of amber with the flower inside.

"Perfectly preserved. Forever. Just like the insects and dinosaurs from prehistoric times."

Peter handed it to Olivia. It was surprisingly light in her hands. No more than the weight of the flower itself.

"Your father developed this?"

"Yes. He was a great scientist."

"Was?"

"He's too busy with bureaucratic red tape and meetings to be the scientist he used to be. I've taken over where he left off. Beautiful, isn't it?" Peter reached over and placed his hand on Olivia's knee and looked into her eyes and he could imagine her being able to see right into his soul.

Olivia's heart began to beat a little faster in her chest and she felt a little flushed. Then the world began to waver and shimmer. The uneaten sandwich fell from her knees and the plate shattered into a million pieces on the floor.

"No no no! Peter, I think they're pulling me back!" she heard herself say, trying to grab his arm but all she could grab was empty air. And her voice sounded so far away.

"What? No, take me with..." Peter's voice was cut off mid-sentence and before she could answer, Olivia was hoisted out of the tank.

"No!" she yelled and tried to pull away from whoever was doing this to her. Why couldn't they just let her be? A few more minutes was all she needed!

"Peter!"

"Olivia!" Astrid and Walter both shouted, but she did not hear them or could not hear them.

"Peter!"

She felt the jab of a needle and a burning rush swept through her veins and everything slowed down and then faded to black.


	4. Chapter 4

After a long hiatus and a computer that sent me the blue screen of death, this story is now back on track! Feedback is **always** appreciated, even if it's one word!

* * *

xXx

* * *

Peter clicked open the files Agent Dunham had sent over to him. He studied them, memorizing them. There was footage of _her _walking, footage of _her_ driving a stolen car, grainy surveillance footage of _her_ begging on a street corner at night. And then a video of _her_ walking by a familiar wall and fence.

She had been outside his house. Immediately after Agent Dunham had left that day.

Peter's nerves shivered with the feeling that someone had just walked across his grave. And now he knew how Agent Dunham must feel, to see this double skulking around and not knowing why or what she was going to do.

And then the car _she_ had stolen to follow Agent Dunham veered off the road a few miles away from his house and crashed into a building before authorities could intercept it.

There was nobody found inside.

He wanted to know more. No, Peter _needed_ to know more.

* * *

xXx

* * *

When Olivia awoke from her medically induced nap, she was dry and comfortable and laying under a blanket on a cot.

"Olivia, how are you?" Astrid asked her gently from above. She turned her head and spoke to the other side of the room, "Walter, Olivia's awake."

Walter Bishop appeared in front of her holding the amber encased flower. Walter cradled it, like he was afraid to drop it and shatter it.

"You brought this back with you," he told her.

"Peter gave it to me."

"Peter?" Walter sounded surprised.

Awareness flooded Olivia's senses. "Why did you pull me out, Walter?" She sat up a little too quickly and her vision grayed out, but visibly she didn't waver. "Why?"

"Your heart-rate skyrocketed. It was for your own good," Walter told her. He had a novel full of questions to ask Olivia about Peter and the other side but he just stood there staring at the flower in his hands. There were just so many questions, he didn't know where to begin.

Olivia had come out of the tank screaming Peter's name and thrashing about violently and it had shaken him (and Astrid) deeply.

"Walter, I was talking with Peter when you pulled me out. He gave me that flower. This is the amber I told you about. They encase people in it and y_ou_ developed it to seal the rips in the universe! I need to go back."

"This is... This is dangerous, Olivia," Walter stammered. "I don't know why your heart-rate rose so quickly. There could be an underlying health problem or the dosage could have been wrong. Or maybe it was too early to send you back in...Or...Or..."

"I know why, Walter, I know why my heart rate went up. And it was nothing. Nothing to worry about." She reddened slightly with embarrassment. She had felt a connection to Peter and it was strong. Yes that was all it was. "So I need to go back. Right now-"

"No. Absolutely not. Out of the question," Walter said firmly. He turned his back on her and walked away.

* * *

xXx

* * *

The next day, Olivia found herself in the dusty dry tank again for the third time, a little woozy. The thought of having to make her way out of here AGAIN and find Peter AGAIN and evade capture AGAIN was really getting her down. She was having flashes of that Bill Murray movie, Groundhog Day and she HATED that movie. But third time's a charm, she told herself. She listened to her breathing in the enclosed space for a moment before pushing up on the doors.

They lifted a little easier than usual and before she knew it, a hand was helping her out of the tank. She knew the script and this was not in the script. She twisted free and got her legs under her and her wits about her and with a surge of adrenaline and her deadly aim, kicked the guy in the groin. He crumpled to his knees with a choked cry.

"Olivia!" A voice shouted from a few feet away.

Peter.

She did a double-take.

"What? What's going on?" she asked. Looking down in confusion between Peter in his chair and the ashen faced man struggling to get up.

He pulled himself up to a shaky standing position with the help of the tank doors.

He backed away from her.

"We've been waiting for you," Peter started to explain. "This is my friend Eddie, he drove me out here to help." He exchanged a look with his friend and tried to hide a smirk behind his hand. A hand with a large bandage on it. "I think you two have been acquainted."

"Yeah," Eddie's voice was barely audible. "Pleased to meet you, Olivia." He said to her and then turned to Peter, "You sure know how to pick 'em, Bishop."

"What are you doing here?" Olivia asked.

"Helping you out. Remember you told me that this is how you come here? Well I didn't think you should have to fight your way out of Boston again. And... and I needed to see if you were telling the truth."

"Sorry." She flashed Eddie an embarrassed smile. "So what is all this?" She waved her hand at some electrical equipment and monitors that had been set up on the dusty lab tables.

Peter fidgeted and finally answered her. "This is how I'm going to come back with you."

"I thought you said that it didn't work? That you didn't have the right equipment?" Olivia walked around, inspecting the rows of dials and knobs strangely familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

"I'm not going to give away ALL my secrets. Truth is, I was very close to making it work, but when you disappeared in front of me, it gave me the incentive to finish it quickly. And it gave me an idea. So I _think_ it works-"

"You _think_ it works?" Olivia interrupted him.

"It _better_ work because there's no coming back, either way." Peter looked at his friend Eddie with grave intensity. "And they won't find the equipment. I'm going to make sure of that. I have a plan."

"You're just going to disappear again without a trace? How are you going to make sure they don't follow you through the door?"

"The amber. I have an amber deployment canister. I'll seal up the hole behind me and encase the equipment. It will take care of everything."

"Everything? What about your parents?"

Peter's face was stony, but his eyes were dark with emotion. "Done. It's all been worked out." He looked down at the display on one of the monitors, away from Olivia's probing eyes. "I've already informed my father that I won't be coming back. And I took out the tracking device before we came here," Peter held up his bandaged arm to show her. "They don't know where I am and they have no way of finding me. The energy signatures from the doorway won't be detected until I'm already through and the place is ambered. It'll take them days, maybe even weeks, to chisel through the amber and determine exactly what happened..."


	5. Chapter 5

Olivia had made Peter go over everything that was to take place. He had not tested the equipment before and any number of things could go wrong, including turning himself to a burnt piece toast (Olivia's words, not Peter's, he was a little more descriptive about what could happen to him than she liked).

Olivia sensed the vertigo that signaled she was about to be yanked back to her side.

"It's time," she said.

"Okay, good. Err, I mean, just Okay. Nothing good about possibly being cosmically spliced, diced, and pureed." Peter smirked, "Eddie, turn on that machine," he pointed and Eddie obeyed. He also untucked what looked like a gun from his waist band.

"I'm gonna miss you Bishop. We had some good times," Eddie said as he checked the gun over. "Look me up when you get over there, will ya?"

"I will. Doubt I'll find you though, man, but I'll try. That'll take about 10 minutes to fully power up, Eddie. Now, Olivia, flip that red switch there," he pointed and took out the small harmless looking amber canister from his messenger bag.

Olivia reached out and tried, she felt the weight of the switch but she was like a ghost and couldn't move it. It was happening so fast. "I can't. I CAN'T."

"Eddie, flip that red switch. Quick."

Eddie was already at her side and he reached for the switch. His hand went right through hers, like a ghost.

"Weird," he whispered. Eddie turned to Olivia. "Take care of him, miss, he's my best friend."

A low-level humming filled the room and Peter's hurried voice became hushed and started to sound far away. Olivia felt herself flickering, that was the only way she could explain it. She hoped Peter would get through safely, because once she went back to her side, she probably couldn't come back here again if he ambered the place and sealed it up. It was bittersweet but she wouldn't miss it. In a few months it would probably all feel like just a dream-

-and with that thought, she felt a cool liquid envelop her, salty water on her lips and she was back in the tank on her side.

She knocked on the door and it opened with a creak. Walter and Astrid helped her out and she started to towel herself dry.

"Well?" They asked her.

"_WELL?_" Again, they asked, impatient from her lack of response.

She looked around and told them to move some of the tables out of the way. Astrid looked puzzled, but Walter did not. He started shoving tables towards the walls, their legs scraping loudly on the floor.

"Peter has built a doorway. He's going to try and come over."

Walter stopped and looked happy for a moment, "I would have guessed as much. _But he can't! There is nowhere to dissipate the energy!_" Walter said frantically remembering something vital that he thought had been lost forever.

"He says he has a solution. He says it will work. I trust him."

Walter stepped back and bit his lip. Science did not operate on the human principle of trust, but he dared not say that out loud to Olivia Dunham, she was in a mood. And in the short time he had known her, you did not cross her once she got in a mood.

A shimmering cloud of an image appeared or was it like the static of a television or a radio station out of tune? A young man in a high-tech wheelchair appeared in front of their disbelieving eyes. The chair hovered in mid-air for a second before gravity and physics reclaimed it and it tumbled over with a crash. Peter fell out of the chair and hit the ground with a very real sounding THUD. And did not move.

Olivia leapt into action. "Walter!" She cried.

He was in shock. This was his son. Or a variation of his son. Olivia was looking up at him, begging him to do something, but his legs wouldn't move. His son had just tumbled out of thin air twenty-five years after death and they wanted him to think _rationally_?

Astrid hurried over with a first aid kit tucked under her arm and placed her fingers on Peter's neck to find his pulse.

"He has a pulse and he's breathing. Just unconscious. Walter?" She too looked up at Walter, expectant. Both of the women were looking at him. Waiting for some direction.

He snapped out of it finally, "Let's get him comfortable and monitor his vitals. We should put him back in his chair."

Peter was thin and they had no trouble lifting him, Olivia could have lifted him alone, but they all pitched in. Astrid and Walter attached some electrodes and they all stood there staring.

"Did you smell smoke on his clothes?" Astrid asked.

"Yeah. I did." Olivia answered. She looked at her watch. 11:21 a.m.

* * *

It was getting late, the sun had set hours ago and Astrid had been reluctantly sent home. But Olivia and Walter stayed with Peter, who showed no signs of waking any time soon. His vital signs were steady and strong, but he just wasn't waking up. The EEG showed he was only in a deep sleep.

Walter was writing another entry in the journal he had been keeping. His memory was still a little fuzzy, but writing it all down was helping him keep track of things. And there was a lot to keep track of. It was also unnerving to be writing about and observing this young man, who was almost a clone of his son. His son who had died 25 years before. Is this what he would have looked like had he lived? He posed this and many other questions to the blank pages of his notebook.

Walter touched the young man's hand and hoped and feared he wasn't dreaming any of it. That would be too cruel to wake up back in St Claire's to a generic breakfast of oatmeal or runny eggs and this wild ride had only been a by-product of a medication change or last night's salisbury steak dinner.

Astrid arrived bright and early the next morning and shook Walter awake. Olivia was already on her third cup of coffee and looked like she hadn't slept much.

"Any news?" Astrid asked them.

Walter and Olivia both shook their heads.

* * *

At around 3pm, a strange sounding cough came from Peter's side of the lab and they all rushed over. He was awake and looking around.

"It worked?" he asked, stunned. He flexed his hand and then his arm. "I-I feel different. What happened?" Peter smiled at Olivia and then at Walter, but he looked confused.

"You've been asleep for over 24 hours," Olivia informed him. "Welcome back."

He looked at his leg. He moved his foot. Then he shook it and wiggled it.

"I haven't been able to do that in twenty years..."


	6. Chapter 6

**_So, I kind of put this story on the back burner, then Josh Jackson had to go and mention it again at Wondercon a few weeks ago (not my story but the concept behind it that had got my gears turning in the 1st place) and so now it's sitting in the back of my brain again. I have to get it out there before the world comes crumbling down and Fringe is possibly not renewed (THE HORROR!). I didn't want to write long stories any more, but dang this one's turning into a long one. Darn you Joshua Jackson! Double dog darn you!_**

**_Just a recap: so this is an alt universe story where Peter was cured by Walter and returned safely to his home on the other side to grow up over there...  
_**

**_Feedback, critiques, chocolate chip cookies shoved through the internets, anything is appreciated, except flaming bags of poo. Thanks for reading!_**

* * *

_ Let's back up just a little from where we left off..._

* * *

After a tense night of no changes in Peter's condition, Astrid arrived bright and early at the laboratory. Olivia was out in the field on a case and Walter was pacing, looking worried. He perked up when Astrid arrived.

Walter had been dancing around Peter Bishop's side for the better part of the last few hours, Astrid had noticed and marked it in her notebook. She was keeping both eyes on Walter today as Olivia suggested (Olivia didn't need to know that Astrid had already been keeping both eyes and both ears on Walter Bishop since the day he was sprung from the asylum). She wasn't sure how much she trusted this man and things around here just kept getting weirder and weirder. A man plucked out of thin air? From a parallel universe? Madness. When she signed up for the FBI, she'd had no idea this was what she was getting into.

Genius and madness tiptoed the same line and that line was getting smaller and smaller every day.

Walter had taken copious vials of blood earlier in the morning from Peter. Astrid feared he would drain the poor man dry, but Walter scoffed at her when she voiced the thought. He frowned a lot at his findings, took reams of notes and then asked for strange things.

Astrid's first task of the day was to go to a garage somewhere in Boston and pick up some boxes full of Walter's old files.

"Everything marked 'Peter,'" he told her. "They'll be in the back of the station wagon." He said as he handed her a set of keys.

"And on the way back, pick up a large chocolate Dr. Pepper float. I need it to think." Astrid looked sternly at him, not moving; she was his government paid errand girl, but she was not his personal slave.

He noticed she hadn't moved. "Please?" he asked, hoping that would wipe the look from her face. It did and Astrid reluctantly turned on her heel and left the lab on her mission.

Hours later, she came back covered in dust and dropped off the ice cream float. Everything was as she left it: Peter Bishop asleep in his chair and Walter stewing impatiently over computer readouts. He smiled at her and actually remembered her name (well, he came close enough so she gave him credit anyways).

"_Aspirin!_" He took a spoonful of the chocolate Dr. Pepper float and savored it. "This delicious concoction has given me hope. Where _DID_ you get this?" He stared, mesmerized, into the cup.

"There's an old fashioned soda shop a few blocks away, Walter. I've become a regular there. They think I'm pregnant because of all the weird drinks I order.

"Little do they know the _real_ story."

Walter smiled at her.

After a few hours, after he helped her lug in the dusty boxes of files from her car, they sat together on the floor of the lab, flipping through file folders. She opened a box and pulled out a stuffed bear in a faded T-shirt that read "Buddy Bear" and she glanced inside at a pile of dinosaurs and Star Wars figures.

Walter snatched the bear away from her.

"_This_ was one of his favorites. But not his _very_ favorite. We buried him with that one."

Astrid started to tear up, but she had nothing to say. She glanced over at Peter.

Walter jammed the toys back in the box and replaced the lid.

"We don't have time for this," he suddenly remarked and grabbed another box.

* * *

xXx

* * *

She found the file and Walter began consulting it and taking things from the cabinets and refrigerator. Only Walter knew where everything was and he grumbled loudly when he couldn't find something important.

Astrid scribbled in her notebook: _buy labelmaker for Walter._

"I need more syringes, _Ascot_!" he barked. "Please!"

"No dilly dallying! Time is of the essence, dear. _Time. Is. Of. The. Essence!_"

She headed out again.

* * *

He grabbed the bag with the syringes from under her arm the moment she came in the door. He ignored the sandwiches she had picked up for their lunch. Astrid had never known him to not notice when food was in the room.

Before she could ask or object or even put down her purse, Walter had injected a series of blue-ish substances into Peter's arm.

"Walter, what was that?" Astrid dropped her purse heavily onto the table. She didn't have children, but she thought that dealing with Walter must be what it was like to have a really precocious child who was always taking apart the TV or the toaster or the family dog to try to see how it worked. She reached into her purse for her notebook.

"Walter, what did you just inject into him?" She said sternly as she opened the notebook and clicked her pen.

He smiled but did not look at her. Beguiling. "It was an enzyme. Designed to promote muscular regeneration." He checked Peter's reflexes and pupils and scrawled some notes of his own.

Astrid wished she had taken some biology classes or chemistry classes, she could never tell if Dr. Bishop was pulling the wool over her eyes.

* * *

xXx

* * *

So when Peter opened his eyes later that day and moved his feet, Walter was not surprised.

Well, maybe he was a _little_ surprised.

He stared at Peter who also stared back for a moment.

"I knew you could do it," Peter smiled.

Walter stood there, shy.

"I found my notes from before."

"I—I- I don't know what to say-" Peter said as he tried to get up from the chair.

"Take it easy- son." Walter tried to push him back down, but Peter was determined to stand.

Walter and Astrid grabbed Peter's arms and stood on either side of him.

He stood. Shaky, but he was standing.

But then he fell back into the chair, exhausted.

Walter had so many questions, _but _w_here to begin?_

"Would you like something to eat, Peter?" Astrid asked.

"Oh, I should have baked a cake!" Walter clapped his hands together.

"I'll call Olivia," Astrid spoke while dialing.

* * *

xXx

* * *

Olivia arrived quickly after the call from Astrid. She was nervous.

Peter looked exhausted. He had staggered from table to table, grabbing at chairs for support and balance and the excitement of it all had quickly drained him of energy. All he wanted to do now was fall into a soft bed. And yes he could now fall into a bed instead of being placed there and carefully tucked in by a nurse or his mother.

"Peter," She smiled at him. "You can stay at my apartment."

"Thanks Olivia. I really appreciate it."

"I rather hoped Peter would be staying here at the lab-" Astrid began.

"Oh me too!" Walter butted in.

"-hopefully it would have deterred Walter from walking around naked so much tomorrow. It is _Tuesday_ after all," Astrid finished.

"That's a side of Walter that I have absolutely no interest in seeing," Peter winced. "I'll stay at Olivia's."

Olivia and Walter tried to help him climb the stairs up to Olivia's apartment but Peter only got up the first two and then couldn't continue. Walter heroically offered to fireman carry him, but Peter politely declined. Olivia ran up the stairs into her apartment and grabbed a chair from the dining room. Olivia and Walter easily carried him, seated in the chair, up the remaining steps.

"I think I'll need to find a new place," she said to the two men when they entered the apartment. They both smiled at her. Their smiles looked so similar, it unnerved her. She hadn't had time to properly process what had happened, she had gone through the day in a haze and now Peter Bishop, who hadn't _existed_ in this universe 48 hours ago, sat on her couch about to pass out from exhaustion.

Walter put a blanket over him and before they could say anything, he was out like a light. They still hadn't asked any questions and Peter had not spoken about what happened between the time Olivia appeared and he had appeared, in mid air.

Walter sat at her dining room table while Olivia brewed some water for tea. Too shocked for words they co-existed in comfortable silence.

A man from a parallel universe lay there, snoring lightly, on her couch and she was having a cup of tea.

And the impetus of all this, John Scott, was driven out of her mind almost completely by a bulldozer.


	7. Chapter 7

_OK, after a not so brief life break, here are the next 2 chapters. As always, reviews are appreciated. Chapter 9 will switch tones a bit, and make it more "stand alone".  
_

* * *

XxX

* * *

Olivia was a light sleeper and woke up to- _something_. She'd heard noises and plucked her gun from the top of the night stand. Safety off, gun at the ready, she crept out of her room and into the hallway. Her stove light was on, casting a dim glow around the rest of her apartment. A blanketed figure leaned heavily on the kitchen counter. Thin face and dark eyes peered back at her, smiled.

"Hey." Olivia put the safety back on the gun and carefully put it on top of the refrigerator before he noticed. In the fog of sleep, she had momentarily forgotten Walter and Peter had spent the night and that momentous things had occurred over the last few days.

Then she noticed John's favorite coffee mug in pieces on the kitchen floor. Her heart took a glancing blow. Though deflected, it still stung.

"I'm sorry," Peter looked apologetic at the broken cup then back to Olivia. He only briefly met her eyes.

He hadn't known its value, it was only a mug after all.

"Don't worry about it." She took a broom from the closet and began to sweep the pieces out of the way because they were both barefoot. "Are you alright? Do you need anything?" She felt like a neglectful hostess. She looked around the living room and realized Walter was sound asleep in one of the chairs, still wearing his coat.

"I needed something to drink," Peter said.

"I'll get you something. Is water okay?"

"Yes. And..." he avoided looking at her, embarrassed. "I need to use the toilet. Where the heck is it? You do have toilets on this side, don't you?" He sounded serious, but the glint in his eyes gave him away.

"Oh, we use buckets here, did I forget to mention that little factoid?" she smiled and led him down the hall to her room.

* * *

xXx

* * *

Olivia was grinning for some silly reason, like the first time she'd brought a boy to her college dorm room, leaning her shoulder against the door jamb outside the bathroom. Peter's voice echoed off the tile from inside, behind the closed door.

"I'm sorry for waking you up. I tried to wake Walter, but he wasn't responding. At all."

"He takes a sedative at night to help him sleep. I think I saw him take one last night. Or maybe even two. Walter has a bit of a drug habit, but it's endearing." She meant it. Olivia was not one to take drugs, although now she really couldn't say that after the amount she'd taken over the weekend.

A muffled reply: "Interesting. Mine never touched the stuff, he was more of a drinker."

Awkward silence descended on them both. Or maybe it was a comfortable one because it was something they shared. Olivia also knew too well about alcoholic fathers and their tendencies. She sighed and the door became an acceptable stand-in for a solid shoulder to lean on.

Peter broke the reverie first, "So I tried to get here myself, then realized the bathroom must be in your room. Since you're up, do you mind if I take a shower? I feel funky."

"No, I don't mind at all. Do you feel up to it?"

"I feel like a million dollars right now." He gave himself a cocky smile in the medicine cabinet mirror, really he hadn't felt this good in forever.

Olivia smiled and leaned closer.

"Peter-"

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask what happened after I left?"

Peter heaved a sigh. It was mostly a blur and he had been going over it in his mind for hours already that morning.

"_'After I left'-y_ou make it sound like you went to the store." He snorted to himself.

"What was that?"

"Oh nothing."

Peter leaned heavily against her bathroom counter; literally the weight of the world finally catching up to him. His sidelong reflection in the mirror stared back-he was standing up. He was peeing standing up(!), mostly unassisted(!) and _that_ hadn't happened since he was a kid. He straightened himself, mid-piss, as tall as he could to get a good look. Muscles that hadn't stretched or moved in years were stiff and sore coming back to life. He groaned at the pain, but it was a good pain.

Oh how he wanted to tell his mother. She would be so happy, she would probably cry. But he'd probably never get to tell her. He bit his cheek hard; best not to think about her.

What he wanted to do was dance and sing and shout out the window to the next best thing: this beautiful, blonde haired woman who had appeared out of the blue and rescued him. But Olivia might not fully appreciate it if he popped his head out of her bathroom with a smile on his face like a crazed Jack Nicholson, minus the axe, shouting his love for her and for peeing standing up.

And then shouted his love for her again. And kissed her square on the lips.

In all fairness, she'd probably shoot him right there or tranquilize him. He had seen her creep into the kitchen like a ninja, armed and ready for action. He wasn't blind. There wouldn't be any shouting or kissing. Not yet.

When he finally spoke it was low and Olivia almost couldn't hear him. "Somehow somebody knew we were there. Or they knew something big was happening, or maybe they only stumbled onto us. Eddie started shooting and next thing I knew there was an explosion. That's mostly what I remember."

He paused a moment, gathering his thoughts or waiting for an answer from Olivia or from the god or gods of this world and his.

He was wrestling with so many feelings and something he felt needed to be revealed to her. Something that had been bothering him since he woke up hours ago on her couch, trying to piece together what may have gone wrong with the plan.

If his best friend in the world had made it out alive.

Why his carefully laid plans had gone straight to hell.

And if his father had retrieved the crossing-over device and was preparing to send an army over to get him.

Peter felt the irrational urge to punch the mirror or the wall, he was so mad at himself. There were so many possibilities he'd failed to anticipate. He was always failing to anticipate. Or anticipating to fail.

He hadn't imagined it going so wrong, so quick. And then everything going so right, so quick. Too many conflicting emotions gathered around him, threatening to break like a storm, over him.

Earlier, in the wee hours of the morning, the snores of Walter intruded on his thoughts of Olivia in the other room. Imagining what could be...

But other thoughts kept him awake too, like how he was going to break this bad news to her:_ 'Oh by the way, I may have inadvertently started that little war my father had spoken about for years. Did I tell you about that? Funny story...' _

Could he maybe lie to her and tell her everything was fine? It didn't seem so bad here, could he risk only telling her half the story and living in ignorant bliss for a few days or weeks?

Maybe a few days or weeks of bliss _was_ worth wrecking the fabric of the universe.

He turned on the faucet to wash his hands, stalling while he beat himself up just a little bit more. Boy, he was a selfish bastard. Just like his old man. In trying to be nothing like Walter Bishop, he ended up being as bad or worse. His only consolation was that maybe the world would be fully destroyed and the history books, chock full of the details of 'how' and 'why' it all happened, would never be printed.

_Yup, selfish..._ No, a few weeks of his own happiness and health was definitely not worth wrecking the universe, but the damage may have already been done.

"Are you okay, Peter?" her voice called out to him, snatching him from the depths of his despair.

He realized he'd been staring into space, drying his hands for a very long time on Olivia's grey towel, reveling in its fluffiness.

He blotted his face and stared back into the mirror at hollow eyes, as he finally answered. "It's standard protocol to amber an area with anomalous energy signatures, like the one I created, within an hour at most. It has to be done within a short window of time to seal up the hole to keep it from growing. To keep it from swallowing up everything in its path into oblivion. But I wasn't able to amber the area before I left, as I'd planned. I wanted to give Eddie time to get away, but from the sound of the shooting, I didn't think he was far enough away from the amber to deploy it."

Olivia saw where he might be going with this. She was hanging on his every word, her mind trying to decode what he might be trying to tell her between the lines. A greek tragedy shouting at her from between the lines. She slipped an errant strand of bed-head hair behind her ear and leaned in closer.

This damn closed door would be the death of her, she wanted to fling it open and look him in the eyes!

"So you couldn't amber the area, which would have concealed what you were doing." It wasn't a question, more like restating what she thought she heard.

"Yeah. So whoever was out there _could _have retrieved my equipment before sealing the hole and-"

"And they could have a way to come to our side."

Olivia heard the shower handle squeak as it was prone to do when turned on and Peter did not answer.

She took that as a 'yes'.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

* * *

xxx

* * *

Olivia shook Walter repeatedly, calling his name. She thought about slapping him, but would save that for later. The urge to slap Walter Bishop was a daily thing, but she wanted him fully awake if she ever needed to do it. And also, she was sure Astrid would want to be there to witness it.

Olivia pinched his ear lobe, digging her nail in after he didn't even respond to that. His eyes fluttered open.

"Olivia?" He grabbed his ear in pain, her face was very close to his.

"Peter is taking a shower and just in case he needs some help, I want you awake, Walter."

"Peter?" He was puzzled. After all, she had spoken the name of a long-dead ghost boy.

"Yes, Peter. Remember?"

Recognition dawned in Walter's eyes and he sat up straight. "Yes. Oh, yes, I remember!"

"Would you like some coffee? I don't have anything to eat, but we can stop somewhere on the way to the lab."

"Yes, coffee would be excellent," he said as he left the room.

He knocked and through the closed bathroom door, Walter exclaimed loud enough for the neighbors to hear: "Peter, this is Dr. Walter Bishop, do you need anything? I'll be right outside the door if you do."

Peter smiled at Walter's overly formal tone of voice. He had washed away most of the sadness that had drawn down around him, but it wasn't the voice he was hoping to hear. If the universe had blessed him with Olivia Dunham, it had also cursed him with another Walter Bishop, too.

* * *

Xxx

* * *

Peter, Walter, and Astrid sat in a booth at the infamous soda shop, each had a milkshake topped with whipped cream and a cherry in front of them. Walter was trying to describe what ratios were needed to make the perfect milkshake and that this shop had unwittingly perfected them, likely without any quantifiable scientific analysis as he repeatedly informed them.

Peter and Astrid had shared many rolled eyes and unspoken looks about Walter by this point.

The high-tech wheel chair was D.O.A. so they were pushing Peter around campus and running errands in a regular low-tech version that Walter found stashed in a closet in the health department. Peter grumbled when he saw it, but conceded it was better than hobbling around on a pair of human crutches.

Olivia was going to join them after work and they waited for her, sipping milkshakes. Walter swore this was the best way for Peter to pack on the pounds and get his strength back. Between mouthfuls of milkshake, Astrid made a mental note to have Walter's cholesterol levels checked before he started "packing on the pounds" alongside Peter.

"Hi!" Olivia entered the shop, smiling, and removed her black gloves. Peter's eyes brightened and Olivia slid into the booth across from him and Walter. They hadn't spoken more than a few words all day after their chat through the bathroom door. Peter wasn't sure what that meant. He was overwhelmed by how fast things had moved and how normal this had all so suddenly become. They shared a look that clearly said 'we need to talk'. A little interdimensional war didn't need to interrupt their blossoming friendship, did it? Peter hoped.

"How was your day, Olivia?" Walter asked. "Ours was superb!" He was glowing. Walter was so obviously proud to have Peter tagging along.

"It was fine, Walter. It wasn't half as superb as yours was, I bet. So tell me what you did?" she removed her hat and shook out her hair. She needed to talk to Peter, but she would indulge Walter for a bit, she hadn't seen him this happy in- Ever.

"Well, first we went to Wal-Mart and bought some clothes for Peter."

Peter interrupted, "We don't have Wal-Mart over there. It was an _interesting_ experience."

"Walter, I will not go with you there_ ever again_," Astrid informed the table, looking sternly at Walter. "I did not get an education and train with the FBI to intervene in a fist fight you almost had with a ten year old over which Star Wars movies were better."

"Well it's clearly The Empire Strikes Back, how that child could even say that any of the latter three were better-"

"_Walter!_" Astrid snapped.

"I second that, I'm never going there again either," Peter responded. "For that, and many other reasons."

Olivia smiled.

"Then we took Peter to the natural history museum!" Walter lowered his voice and leaned in close to Olivia, touching her sleeve: "For the record, he says it's pretty much the same as the other side."

"'Pretty much the same'?" Olivia repeated.

"Some of our dinosaurs had different names and we had a couple you didn't. No big deal." Peter responded with a wave of his hand.

"That's good to know," Olivia smiled. She briefly met Peter's eyes, then she gave him the 'once over'. He already looked healthier than he had when she first met him. Maybe a little exhausted from his day with Walter.

A waiter brought over a milkshake for Olivia.

Astrid noticed Peter never took his eyes off Olivia the whole time they were there.

* * *

Xxx

* * *

_Back at the lab, later that night_

Walter and Peter were sitting at a desk with what looked like a peculiar broken window between them. A heated conversation stopped when she entered the room.

"Walter, Peter and I need to talk," Olivia said.

"Oh yes. I'll go busy myself somewhere else. I need to find that spare set of sheets for the bed. And possibly a spare bed..." Walter headed to his room and closed the door.

"I need to ask you some more questions," she sat down next to Peter. She was all business, this Olivia Dunham.

"I thought you would."

"What is your father capable of? Is he like this Walter? Will he try to come find you? What will he do if he has your equipment?"

Peter looked far away, hoping to see the future, but no such luck. "I destroyed the lab at my house." He bored his eyes into the desk then into her. "I destroyed plans and prototypes that Walter and I had been working on for years. I told him I never wanted to do his dirty work again. In the name of 'national security' I had developed some awful, awful things. Things I was proud of, technologically speaking. They were revolutionary, but they were used in ways I hadn't considered. So I destroyed them all. I destroyed all my notes. So Walter will be quite angry."

"How angry?"

"I don't know. Very?" He tried to make light of it, but Olivia wasn't laughing. "I spoke to Walter earlier and he has this—" he waved a hand at the broken window in front of him.

"What is this? I've never seen this before."

"It's a viewer to look at the other side. It's broken, but I might be able to fix it. Then we can see what's going on over there and what steps we may have to take to prevent-" Peter clamped his mouth shut, looked away, pretended to look carefully at something important on the smashed viewer's control box. He had just said too much and could kick himself. She would pounce on him, he knew that much about her already.

Olivia fixed her attention squarely on him, hands on the table. "Prevent what?"

He let out a deep breath, "A war. I might have just started a war."


End file.
